Every term I get to do a chapel for the 1st-6th graders aka the Titchies. I am not a pastor, but I believe the term that might be used for them would be `Tough Crowd.’ No one can tune you out faster than a little kid can.

I was sitting in the back of the room, trying to gather my thoughts, when the principal got up to make some announcements before I spoke. The first announcement got my attention: `Boys are only allowed to pee in the toilet. No peeing out the window.’

This got me thinking, because the windows are HIGH in the Titchie bathroom. You would have to be standing on TOP of a toilet, and have some arc, in order to accomplish this task. As I was contemplating how they accomplished this goal, or even WHY, I was called up to speak. I have learned that this is not appropriate meditation before delivering a sermon.

I had spoken a few halting words when a LARGE bee came straight at my head. I dodged it, as any rational person would have done, but unfortunately earned the only laugh I would receive during my talk. Because I couldn’t stay focused, it was then I realized an important rule about talking to young children:

SPEAKING TO SMALL CHILDREN + NO LAUGHS = DEATH.

I tried to brace myself and continue, when I received a phone call. It was from a fellow staff member, so I had the children shout `Hi Mr. Mitchell!’ which they did more loudly than I thought possible. Any train of thought went way off the track.

As I began to try again, a sweet little girl who is autistic started saying loudly `Mr. Peifer is wearing underwear.’ Underwear is a trigger word for the young set, and this brought gales of laughter that I couldn’t contain. As I closed by asking them to pray, the bee attacked again, and NOTHING is funnier to the small fry set than someone who is dodging and weaving during prayer.

I take comfort in the fact that it will be January before I get to do it again.

I was selected to speak at a conference in California, and several other opportunities opened up to make it a full trip. I left June 1st and spent five days on a tour of several Canadian universities. I fell in love with Toronto, and wondered why everyone wouldn’t live there. It is so big but so clean and so diverse and so full of life.

Then the temperature went from 90 to 40 in two hours. In June.

That is why everyone wouldn’t want to be there.

I went from there to California to attend a Christian college conference. I spoke about the fact that at our school the average debt for our students to attend a secular institution was 19k for four years; it was 58k to attend a Christian college. I challenged this as counterproductive and dangerous because the biggest sources of new missionaries are missionary kids; 65% of our kids return to the mission field. But they can’t with huge debt.

The response was encouragingly warm, and I’ve already had responses from several colleges who felt challenged to do more for missionary kids. It was a heartening start to an issue I hope I can continue to bring up with Christian colleges.

After this, I need to make a disclaimer. I am a pretty boring guy, but interesting things happen to me.

I went to a Target, and bought a CD by my new favorite group: a Hispanic brother and sister duo named Jesse and Joy. The young Hispanic man who was checking my stuff out asked:

Checkout guy: (looking at the cd) Are you Hispanic?
Me: Of course. How did you know?
CG: Who else would buy this CD? An old white guy?
Me: Actually…

I am the whitest human on the planet, so it was a thrill to know how multicultural I’ve become.

I stayed with some amazing people the whole trip, and at the end I stayed with a couple who have adopted two boys from Kenya. They were forces of nature, and they invited me to their church’s committee meeting on orphans.

The meeting was wonderfully encouraging because they are a big church with a big vision; I had tears in my eyes hearing their dreams of helping orphans. Afterwards, a few of us went out to lunch.

And I had lunch with Angelina Jolie’s brother, who is passionate about orphans and a born again Christian. He was a nice guy, but it was playing with my head that someone like me ate lunch with someone like that.

Then came my Beverly Hills moment. A nice guy was out here a few months ago taking footage to do a film we could show at churches. Some other people who are doing a documentary for PBS saw the rough footage and wondered if I would be interviewed for the show. I had one day before I left, and so they asked me to come to this hotel in Beverly Hills where they were filming. They said it might air in August; I will let you know when it is on.

I was done, and waiting for my ride. I was sitting on a bench outside the hotel with my jeans and t-shirt, and some guy came out of the hotel waiting for his car. He was wearing at least a four thousand dollar suit, and he asked me if I was going to the opening of some club that night. I told him no, but then I got thinking, maybe I SHOULD go so these LA lamers could see someone who could really fire on the groove.

So the next four people who came waiting for their cars (all weirdly good looking and dressed to the nines) I asked if they were going to the opening. When they said yes, I asked if perhaps I could attend WITH them.

I get lots of strange looks in Kenya, but perhaps nothing in the world come compare to the looks I got from those people. My guess is that my coolness overwhelmed them.

My last day in California was the most exciting. The admissions person at Westmont College had arranged for a pick up from the house I was staying at so I could spend the day at their campus. My flight would leave at 9pm, and they assured me they would get me there in plenty of time.

The kid who was going to pick me up was supposed to show up at 8am. He got lost and got there several hours late. Then he got lost and we didn’t get to campus until 3:30. It was still a thrill to see the campus, and then the Super Shuttle came to take me to the airport.

We were about half way to the airport when the shuttle broke down. The interesting man who drove the bus would perish if it caught fire, because it would probably take him two hours to do anything, so I decided to hitchhike.

52 year old males probably aren’t prime candidates for being picked up, because the sneers and rude honks indicated jealousy and resentment. I went back on the Super Shuttle and asked if anyone was going on an international flight. There was a young lady who was on my flight. She was 21 and extremely good looking.

She got out to hitchhike, and a car immediately slammed on the brakes. A very nice and certainly disappointed young man took both of us to the airport, and after one episode when my hitchhiking friend lost her passport, we made it onto the plane.

It was a great trip, and I’m so glad to be back.

We will complete three more centers before we leave, which will mean ten centers operational by July 15. What you all have done for these children is such a wonder to me.

God bless you, and we hope to hitchhike to see you back in America in three weeks. I am the slightly looking Hispanic guy.

Your pal